Batwoman: Legacy
by Atlan
Summary: Ten years after the Justice League was destroyed, Barbara Gordon is alone and bitter. But in a world with no more heroes, who will she look up to? When her paralysis is finally cured, what will she do with her life?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, Superman, Green Lantern, Wonder Womman, JLA, Static Shock, Teen Titans or any other affilcated idea- those are owned by DC Comics

I don't own Ranma ½ or any other anime which might be mentioned in passing.

* * *

My name is Barbara. Just Barbara, now days.

I've had a lot of other names, though. Once, I was Barbara Gordon. My father was the chief commissioner of police for Gotham. I didn't have a mom, but we managed. We were happy.

I wish I could point to any number of times, any number of events and say 'This is where it all changed.' But I can't. Real life doesn't work that way. I could point to the day that Bruce Wayne's parents died, or when he donned the cowl for the first time, becoming Batman. I could point to the day that he and my father became allies against the crime of Gotham. I could even point at the day that Dick Grayson's parents died, or the day that he became Batman's first protégé, Robin.

Any one of those could be the beginning, but for me it was the day that my father was framed for corruption. Ironically, he was one of the few honest cops in the city. I had a plan- I would pretend to be Batman at the support rally. Gotham would think that Batman supported my father. I made a Batman costume to fit me, and I hid in the shadows at the rally.

Fate has this habit of screwing me over though. While I was waiting for the rally, there was a drive-by shooting. I, being an idiot, leapt to help. The back of my cowl ripped, and my hair came tumbling out. In front of everyone. I guess that's where Batgirl was born. A fashion disaster in front of a crowd. That says it all, doesn't it?

I worked hard, protecting my city. Eventually, Batman accepted me, let me work with him. Even let me into the Batcave. I got to know Dick Grayson as he grew up, from Robin into Nightwing. I watched as Tim Drake became the new Robin. We were a family. I was happy again.

Didn't last though. I should have known.

Dick and I were engaged for a while, but it didn't work. I couldn't handle the fact that he could snap me in half; he couldn't handle the 'feelings' I had for Batman. We broke up, and he ran off to Bloodhaven. We didn't speak again, except that one time.

Then it finally happened. The Joker got one of us. Tim. But instead of killing him, he did worse. He tortured him, brainwashed him, turned him into a mini-Joker. That was the one time that Batman ever broke that sacred rule. He killed him.

But Joker had the last laugh. As Batman pushed him over the edge of the cliff, he got a shot off. Hit me in the gut. Batman rushed me to a hospital. I survived.

Sometimes I wish I hadn't.

That bastard paralyzed me. I'd never walk again.

When the Justice League threw open its doors, when almost every superhero in the world joined, we didn't. I couldn't walk; Tim had slunk off with his tail between his legs, swearing off the vigilante life forever. Dick was too angry to join any group that had Bruce in it.

Oh, I had plans. I was going to be the super-hacker, Oracle. I was going to play Professor Xavier to the vigilantes of Gotham. Huntress and Black Canary had signed on to be my team, and I had my eye on a couple of others.

That dream ended when the Justice League did- when the Watchtower was destroyed, and the bulk of Earth's protectors with it.

I tried though. I really did. I sent Nightwing to infiltrate Luthor Corp, to figure out if Lex Luthor had killed our mentor. We never did find out- he died at the hand of Luthor's security systems.

The Teen Titans perished- all of them. Hawkgirl died. Static, Gear, Ruberband Man, Shebang- all gone. Even Tim donned the cowl once more- and was killed. One by one, in teams, they all died. I was the last.

I tried to change that. I tried to create a new Batman. He died on his first patrol.

That's when I gave up. Our golden age was over. No more would a dark knight emerge from the shadows to stop rapists and serial killers. Never again would Superman catch a falling plane, Static stop a metahuman breakout, Flash pull people out of the way of a car, Green Lantern hold back a tidal wave. It was all over.

I had inherited all of Bruce's fortune, with the deaths of Tim and Dick. I moved into the mansion. I became something of a recluse, and then an alcoholic.

I probably would have stayed that way. I was on track to drink myself to death. But something happened.

I was wheeling myself along the halls of Bruce's mansion, when I heard a noise coming from the Batcave. I tried to make my way down the stairs to the cave, to see what was happening.

A word of advice- never try and wheel yourself down a winding staircase when drunk.

I fell down the stairs and slid across the floor. When I looked up, I saw Batman. He glowered at me. I could feel the disappointment in his eyes.

I was wrong, of course. He hadn't risen from the dead- it was his costume, on the rack. But it hit me. What was I doing? I'd sworn to fight the good fight. Not to pickle myself.

That was the day I stopped drinking. Mostly.

I put Bruce's money to the use he'd intended it for- to make people's lives better. I started funding medical research, in honour of Thomas Wayne.

I started going through Bruce's computer. I found one interesting file- Batman of the Future.

Some people assumed that Bruce didn't know how to make powered armour. After all, he fought world-destroying enemies and rampaging gods with nothing but a belt and Kevlar. The people who knew him –even me- figured it was some kind of martial artist honour. The truth was a little different.

Batman wasn't like Superman, the Flash, or any of the other heroes. He wasn't a shining beacon for people to idolise and emulate. He was the one who was little more than a story swapped between prisoners in prison. An urban legend given form. As far as anyone was concerned, Batman wasn't human- he was a demon who preyed on weaker demons. Any bulky powered armour, like S.T.R.I.P.E or Steel, would make him look human to his enemies.

Batman of the Future was a research and development program Bruce had started a month before he died. It combined myomer fibre with light-bending nano-probes, along with ground-breaking audio-visual surveillance technology. It even interfaced directly with an operator's nervous system.

It would be a week before I made the connection. Nano-probes. Nervous system. _My spine_.

The technology had been completed in the years since Bruce's death. I found a respectable and trustable doctor, and she agreed to perform the operation. By using the nano-probes as an advanced form of stem-cells, they could be used to create artificial cells.

A week after the surgery, I was able to twitch my left big toe.

Two weeks after the surgery, I could move my entire foot.

A month, and I moved like someone who'd been in a coma- my muscles had gotten weaker, but my nervous system was as good as new.

I spent the next year training my body, and by the end of it I was in better shape than I ever had been. The night after I celebrated my newfound health with a cheap bottle of scotch, I walked down to the Batcave again.

I reached out to my old costume, and picked up the cowl. I tried it on- didn't fit, in more ways than one. I went back to the living room, and put on some crappy reality show.

What was I going to do? One woman couldn't make that much difference. I was all alone. In the ten years since the world was robbed of the Justice League, no new heroes had emerged. I was the only one left. What could I do against the world? One person couldn't change the world. Could they?

And why did this conclusion leave me feeling dirty?

I looked down into the dregs of my bottle. "Damn it. I wish I knew what to do." I looked up. "I may not believe in you, you son-of-a-bitch, but just this once, don't screw me over. Just give me a sign."

The Jerry Springer show suddenly disappeared, replaced by a news broadcast. The presenter was sweaty, and unlike the solemn professional face that most presenters had, she was grinning like she'd just won the lottery.

"People of the world. I'm sorry to have interrupted your regularly scheduled programming, but today we have ground breaking news." She took a moment to compose herself. "Today, in the air over Metropolis, three planes were hijacked by al-Qaeda. In what was to be a gruesome repeat of 9/11, the planes were to smash into the new 'Liberty Reborn' statue."

She took a deep breath. "I say 'was' because these attacks were thwarted, and the planes were taken to the airport without any loss of life."

The video changed to a grainy view of a plane interior. Several men, armed with guns and knives, were threatening the hostages. As one tried to stab a loud one, there was a blur of black and red.

I gasped. The man was Asian, with shoulder length hair and good looks. He was big, tall and muscular. He wore a skin tight red and black suit, with an emblem of a rearing horse on the front. He grabbed the knife by the blade, and without any apparent effort squeezed it into a shapeless mass. He then darted forward and knocked out each of the hijackers, leaving the one who'd had the knife conscious. The presenter spoke again. "Unfortunately, at this time we do not have the original audio of this recording. However, Boeing has released a transcript of the conversation."

'I won't let you hurt these people!'

'Our loss does not matter. We are but a third of this attack. You and all the infidels will burn! The others will continue our glorious work!'

'Then I'll stop them too!'

The man in red and black tapped his knuckles on the top of the terrorists head, and the man fell to the ground unconscious. He blurred, and suddenly he was at the door of the plane. 'Everyone, strap yourselves in. I'm gonna have to get out of here.'

He moved to open the door, but the hostess put one hand on his. 'Thank you. You saved us all. Who.. who are you?'

He grinned, and I blushed at that grin as much as the hostess. That guy was something, all right. 'Call me WildHorse.'

I just sat there and watched, my jaw dropping, as this WildHorse flew out of the plane (shutting the door behind him), and broke in to another two planes in flight, emerging minutes later after each one and welding the doors shut with some strange power. There was more, but I didn't really notice it.

One person could make a difference. One man just saved hundreds of people from dying in plane crashes. Hundreds from dying beneath the planes. Probably thousands from another war.

What the hell was wrong with me? Once, I would have been out there doing what I could. It wasn't about changing the world singlehandedly. It was about doing my best to make the world safer. It was about having no regrets. It was about doing the right thing.

"You did this alone, WildHorse," I whispered to myself. "But you aren't going to stay that way."

* * *

**Authors Notes:**

This is the second story in my WildHorse-verse. In case you wonder, WildHorse isn't a Mary-sue, a Self Insertion, or even an OC. He is an older version of an anime character, Ranma. For more information, check out his story, WildHorse: The Man of Steel. That said, you don't need to read any other fic to enjoy or understand this one.

Continuality: Batman: The animated series (not The Batman). All the animated movies happened, except for Batman: Mystery of the Batwoman. Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker happened (at least the flashback portions), except that Barbara got shot.

Most of Justice League happened. The episodes 'Justice for All' didn't, so there never was any Doomsday or the Justice Lords. Justice League Unlimited didn't happen- the league was destroyed during the opening speech from the first episode.

Static Shock happened, as did all crossovers between it, Batman and Justice League.

Teen Titans happened, up to the end of season 4 (where Raven killed Trigon). The following season about the Brotherhood of Evil never happened, and none of the heroes introduced in it ever existed. Tim Drake was the Teen Titans Robin, and he alternated between Jump City and Gotham.

Batman Beyond- well, Bruce is dead. How that will turn out, wait and see...


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, Superman, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, JLA, Static Shock, Teen Titans or any other affiliated idea- those are owned by DC Comics

I don't own Ranma ½ or any other anime/manga I may mention.

Thanks to my prereader J.St.C . Partick for, well, prereading for me.

* * *

"So, doctor, could you explain just how this works?" I asked.

The doctor, chief of R&D for Wayne-Technologies, nodded. He was sitting in a chair, to look me in the eye. "The project was started when we were going over materials salvaged from the Thangarian occupation. There was what appeared to be a metallic rope. We thought nothing of it, and lumped it in with the rest of the unessential scrap. Several months later, we found something odd." He paused dramatically.

I humoured him "Which was?"

"It contracted when a small current passed through it. Radically contracted. The rope was ten metres long- it contracted to one metre, and whipped with enough force that it cut through one of the walls." He looked sad for a moment. "It cut off one of the workers arms."

I pretended confusion. "Why wasn't I told about this!?"

He smiled condescendingly. "It was a month before Mr Wayne was killed in his skiing accident. You weren't here at the time."

"Ahhh," I nodded. "So, what did you do with this miracle rope?"

"We refined it, down to thread size. We call it myomer-fibre. It lost some strength with the shielding we had to create, but it still allows for a significant movement."

I smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, doctor. Your work is most interesting. I can see some use for it already." I beckoned to Nickel, and she approached, taking hold of my wheelchair.

The doctor didn't become chief of R&D by failing to realize when his superiors were bored. "Good day, Miss Gordon."

"Good day, doctor."

Nickel shook the doctors' hand, and wheeled me out of the labs.

"What did you think of it, Miss Gordon?" Nickel asked, once we were a suitable distance away.

I frowned. "Useless ass. Has no idea what he's made. It's just a toy to him."

She pushed me out of the building, and over to the Limo. Penny was there waiting for us. She opened the back door of the Limo, and lowered the ramp. Nickel wheeled me onto the ramp, and into the car. Shutting the door behind us, Penny got into the driver's seat. Nickel stayed in the back with me. I groaned, and hopped out of the chair. "I despise that thing."

"It was your choice to hide your recovery, Babs," Penny pointed out cheerfully.

I glowered at the wheel chair. I had spent far too much time in it over the years. "True."

Nickel fastened the chair to the floor, and Penny dove away from the building. "So- did ya get what you wanted?"

I poured myself a drink from the mini bar. "Yes. It's ready. He's even solved the shielding problem. Now just remains the problem of actually getting it."

Nickel blinked in surprise. "You own the company. Can't you just take it?"

"No. I can't let it be traced back to me personally. I'm just a pleasant billionaire who can't walk and doesn't like crowds," I pointed out bitterly. It was my cover now, like the way Bruce pretended to be an idiot, but it had been all too true not too long ago. "I'll have to steal it."

* * *

Penny drove us back to the mansion. I stalked off to the cave, to think. To get away from them.

Not that I didn't like Penny and Nickel- on the contrary, I wasn't sure how I got by without them. They were fun to talk with, kept the mansion clean and in repair, kept me fed, and knew about my history as Batgirl.

Not that I had told them about that. Their full names were Penny Pennyworth and Nickel Pennyworth- Alfred's twin granddaughters. Alfred had returned to England after Bruce died, and I got by with just myself and the occasional hired cleaner. But the day after WildHorse made his stunning debut, Alfred appeared on my doorstop. He knew me too well. He knew about my alcohol problem; he knew that WildHorse would shock me into doing something.

He tried to offer his services to me- I refused. He deserved to enjoy his final years, not spend them looking after me. He agreed, too easily I thought. I was right- a week later, the twins turned up. They humored me as I rudely sent them away- the next morning, I woke up to a spotless house, the smell of a hearty breakfast cooking, a pair of overly cheerful twins asking what my plans for the day were, and that was that.

I had been making trips to the Labs over the last week, and I had catalogued what I needed. Now, I was almost ready. All I needed to do was make a phone call.

"Yes... Ms Kyle? I have a job for you..."

* * *

That evening found me sitting in the park, feeding some the pigeons. I smiled to myself as I felt the air move slightly. "You're late."

There was a light padding of feet, as Catwoman came into view. "I truuuussst you have my fee?" She asked lightly, with an underlying threat.

I wasn't too worried. As Batman had noted over the years, she was a thief, not a murderer. While she loved a good cat-fight, she was by no means a fan of violence. That made her the perfect person to steal what I needed. "In the car. You have what I wanted?"

She hissed, and passed me a bag. I opened it, and gave it a look. "Let's go to my car." I wheeled myself over to the limo, where Nickel was waiting. Of the twins, she was the more polite. I nodded at her, and she opened the back door, retrieving a bag. She passed it to Catwoman, in exchange for her bag. "Pleasure doing business with you, Catwoman."

She opened the bag, and I could hear her purr with pleasure at the contents- with good reason. A hundred thousand in gold, another hundred thousand in cash, and a pair of matching emerald and ruby cat statues was nothing to sneeze at.

I gestured at Nickel, and she helped me into the car. As she was about to close the door, Catwoman's insistent voice snapped at me. "Wait." I nodded at Nickel, and she opened the door again.

"Yes?" I asked testily. "You have the fee we agreed upon. Was there something else?"

"Yesssss," she purred again. That girl took her cat theme too seriously. "I want to know why."

I smirked coldly. "Why would I pay you so much money to steal these little things?"

"Exactly."

"Most of these are owned indirectly by LexCorp, and the rest are owned by more of Gotham's elite, bidding for government contracts. With these, I can have my engineers reverse engineer them, and undercut the others. Later tonight, Firefly will torch all of the buildings, leaving no one the wiser that anything was missing."

Her eyes glinted in the moonlight. "And why did I target one of your labs?"

I glowered. "The head of that lab was very insulting about my chair." Suddenly, I smirked. "Still, Wayne Enterprises makes sure all its buildings are well insured. I come out on top anyway. Good evening, Selina Kyle."

With that, Nickel closed the door, and drove away. I went through the bag again. The thermoptic-camo was there, as was the computer chip, the directionless mike, and the nano-grippers. They were the big things- everything else was secondary. I poured myself a celebratory drink. Everything was coming together.

* * *

"And so," I used a laser pointer to gesture at the graph, "By pulling our assets from the fishery and putting them into the hydro-electric dam, we will not only see a forty percent rise in profits from them over the next quarter, but we also position ourselves to take the railway contract next year."

I stared down the board of directors. Some of them had been handpicked by Bruce, others had simply gravitated there by virtue of the sheer number of shares in Wayne-tech that they had, but they all had one thing in common- I needed to impress them if I wanted to start making changes in my city.

One of them, Edward Kane, coughed. "These figures are all well and good, Ms Gordon, but what basis do you have for them? Forty percent sounds too good to be true."

There was a general murmur of agreement from the room, but I wasn't intimidated. "The reason is simple, gentlemen: oil. With the war in Iraq not looking like it's going to finish any time soon, oil will skyrocket in price. With the dam, we not only avoid the ongoing costs associated with a petrol or nuclear power plant, but we set ourselves up for favourable press. Going 'green' will be the new trend, and at the front will be Wayne-corp."

Kane nodded approvingly. "The greater cost will be a setback, but by taking the money out of the fishing industry it won't hurt us. A lean year, perhaps, but once that dam goes online it will be worth it."

The Kane family was the second richest in Gotham, next to the Wayne family. Edward was one of the cousins, with a good helping of business sense. I knew the moment I had his approval, the board would fall into place.

I had an ulterior motive for the reshuffle, of course. Aside from the environmental side effects, it was safer than any other form of power, and far less likely to draw the attention of Poison Ivy than any other option. It was also the perfect cover for the money I had to move around, and for hiring engineers. I had a line on over a dozen foreign engineers who were having trouble finding American employment at something other than driving taxis or flipping burgers. It was amazing how many foreigners there were in America with good education and ideas, working as taxi drivers because even with a menial job like that, it was still better than the money they'd make in their own countries.

I had uses for those engineers. The Batmobile was out of date, and I wanted a new one.

* * *

"Thank you, Mr Foley," I said solemnly. "Although Richard never survived long enough to take his place at Wayne-corp, I feel I owe it to him to fulfil the agreement we made."

The imposing fellow looked sad. "I... we never even found his body, you know? His head... but the rest of him was nowhere to be found."

"It was a hard time for all of us," I agreed. "I haven't been able to walk in years. The Joker."

He sighed. "Well, you might as well come in." He opened the door, and Penny wheeled me inside. I could tell at a glance that he lived alone- my research indicated that Richard was the only child he'd ever had, and he had divorced not long after he had lost his son.

"So, why now?" He asked, obviously trying to get his mind off the subject of his son's death. "It's been, god, ten years."

"I take great interest in nurturing talented individuals, Mr Foley." I said honestly. "Richard had accepted a scholarship to Wayne-corp for his revolutionary shoe design."

"He always was a smart boy," the father allowed, holding a picture of a young, blond boy. "I knew he was going to go far. You wanted to see the designs?"

"If it's not too painful."

"No, it's fine. It would be nice for something of my son's to live on. Uh, his room's up stairs..." He said delicately, pointing at my chair.

I chuckled. 'That won't be a problem."

It wasn't. Penny, I was sure, was taking steroids. She carried me up those stairs like a sack of wheat, while a bemused Mr Foley carried my chair. I outwardly smiled, while seething on the inside. I hated not using my own two legs.

I understood the necessity- hell, it was my idea. No one confused Bruce Wayne with the Batman because they were so different. Bruce was an incompetent, friendly fop. Batman was scary, antisocial, and brilliant. I was already known as being smart, so I had to use my reputation as a cripple. But it still burned me, inside.

Penny put me back in my chair, and pushed me into Richard's room. Everything was covered in dust, but otherwise was exactly the same as it had been ten years ago.

Something caught my eye, and I pointed it out to Mr Foley. "Those shoes... may I have a look at them?"

He passed them to me quickly, and I took a good, long look at them. "Yup, these are the ones. Would you mind if I..."

"Oh, no, go right ahead. Like I said, it'll be good to see something of him live on. Take what you need."

Sometime later, Penny and I exited the building. Penny carried a pair of metal boots, a green visor, and a hard drive. I sighed sadly. So many people had been killed over the years, and Richard Foley was one of the greatest losses. The boy had been brilliant. He had invented a pair of rocket-boots at the age of fifteen, of all things. It was a pity the world would never know the brilliance of Richie Foley.

Or as some knew him, Static's sidekick, Gear.

* * *

My fingers burned as I typed as fast as I could. I have an eidetic memory- I can never forget anything, no matter how much I want to.

Well, alcohol stops me remembering- probably the best reason to drink it. But apart from that, I remember everything since I was about three years old. Believe me, when you're coding in C, trying to get an OS running on hardware more advanced than most people realize exists, having that memory helps big time. I was interfacing a dozen different pieces of hardware, most of which should have been totally incompatible with each other.

Behind me, I could hear sparks as Penny welded, and the sound of rustling fabric as Nickel sewed.

* * *

_"Every buddy on the floor! This is a heist, see?!" Cried the puppet, cradling a machinegun, held by a timid ventriloquist. "No heroics, and you might all make it. Moe! How's it coming?"_

_"Almost there, boss." Called one of the numerous henchmen, as he cranked the handle of the bank's main vault. "Ugh!"_

_He slumped to the floor, unconscious. The rest of the gang panicked, and started pointing their guns at the shadows. "Who's there?" One of them shouted._

_There was an explosion of movement, and a dark figure flew into the crowd of henchmen. Men went flying everywhere, until the only two people standing were the ventriloquist, and... something._

_This something was human shaped. Covered completely by a black bodysuit, the only things the ventriloquist could see were the burning red eyes, a mane of dark red hair, the tall pointy ears, and a blood red Bat emblazoned over a pair of breasts. "B.B.B... BATMAN!!" He shrieked._

_"No," the dark figure growled, "Batwoman."_

* * *

Yep, it's short. Think of it as a second prologue, more than anything else. Later chapters will be longer.

If Barbara seems out of character, remember- she's a bitter alcoholic, who's spent a decade paralyzed, watching her friends die and the world get worse. That would change anyone. I'm basing her personality off Renee Montoya, the new comic-verse Question.


	3. Chapter 2

"So," smiled the greasy salesman

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, Superman, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, JLA, Static Shock, Teen Titans or any other affiliated idea- those are owned by DC Comics

I don't own Ranma ½ or any other anime/manga I may mention.

As usual, thank J.St.C . Partick for the fact that you can read this. Seriously, one of these days I've got to learn how to spell.

* * *

_This something was human shaped. Covered completely by a black bodysuit, the only things the ventriloquist could see were the burning red eyes, a mane of dark red hair, the tall pointy ears, and a blood red Bat emblazoned over a pair of breasts. "B.B.B... BATMAN!!" He shrieked. _

"_No," the dark figure growled, "Batwoman."_

...

With a subtle hand gesture, I activated the rockets in my boots, and hurtled towards Wesker, and his dummy Scarface. Before they had time to react, I was already past them, Scarface in hand. Landing on the floor, I showed the puppet to Wesker. Then, using the myomer-fibre enhanced muscles, crushed it in my hand. Wesker screamed, and fell over.

From outside, my augmented hearing picked up five police sirens. I looked back at the group of disabled thugs, and kicked one that was trying to get away. Finally, with a small smirk, I strode out the door and reignited my rocket boots, stretching my arms out from my sides and spreading the small wings built into my suit.

* * *

Captain Renee Montoya strode into the building, gun in hand. The gun was unnecessary- all the criminals were lying unconscious on the floor. Spread throughout the shop were some frightened hostages. She took all this in, and noted the unconscious form of Wesker. Finally, she helped one of the hostages up. "Hi. I'm captain Montoya, Gotham GCPD. Are you ok?"

The hostage nodded, looking like she was about to go into shock. "Y..yeah, I'm fine. Just fine."

As more police came into the building, Renee led the woman out. "I know that you've been through a lot, but can you tell me what happened?"

The woman sat down by one of the ambulances. "It... there was a man, with a puppet, and all those men with guns." She sniffed. "Then there was this dark figure… so fast, it took them all down in seconds. Then she grabbed the puppet, and SMASH!"

Cold sweat trickled down Renee's back. "She?"

Hoarsely, the hostage could only say one word. "Batwoman."

* * *

Invisible, I landed gracefully on a balcony of an apartment, and walked inside. As I cleared the threshold, I took off my mask, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of air on my face.

"Success?" Penny asked, offering me a bowl of pasta. This apartment was one of several I had scattered throughout my city under false names. This particular one was under the name of Brittany Grayson, a girl with an abusive boyfriend she couldn't stay away from. Since he was the jealous type, she didn't get home very often. All it took to maintain was an appearance once every few weeks, with a little makeup to make it look like I was hiding injuries.

Of course, now that I was Batwoman, I wasn't likely to have to fake injuries.

"Yes. The myomer-fibre interfaced flawlessly with my spinal nanites, and the rocket boots responded to the hand signals. The invisibility worked too. The audio needs work though."

Penny gave me a bright grin. "Put the fear of the Bat back into the city?"

I shook my head. "Not with just one appearance. I'll be heading back out in a minute."

"Gotcha." She stood up, and grabbed a scanner off the couch. "Hmm. Power at 87... 98 before you engaged the invisibility. Structural integrity holding. Hair masking holding. Heat dissipating at normal levels." She closed the scanner. "As long as you don't use the thermoptic-camo too much, you're good for the rest of the night."

I nodded, and put my cowl back on. "Don't wait up." With that said, I flew out the window.

* * *

Commissioner Maggie Sawyer had quite a background in the police. Former inspector from the Metropolis Police department, she had ended up heading the MSCU, Metropolis' Metahuman crimes division, for four years. When she took a blast to the right arm, she was forced to take medical leave. The Mayor of Metropolis had fired her (the head of MSCU being unable to fire a gun was considered bad press), and she had ended up taking the job of Commissioner of the Gotham Police Department. Having held the position for three years, she was considered one of the hardest people on the force.

"What were you thinking?! You barged, ALONE, into a hostage situation!!" She roared at Renee.

Renee refused to be cowed. "There was no lookout, no faces in the windows. The clerk managed to set off the silent alarm quickly, and we were close. I was counting on the fact that they hadn't finished setting up, or had already left."

Sawyer glared at Renee. "Well, you were wrong. What the hell happened in there?"

Renee frowned. "The perps were already down- unconscious, beaten, but alive. The hostages were scared, but fine."

The commissioner sat down heavily. "Infighting? Another crook with a claim to the place?" That had happened before. One famous account had six of the most dangerous Arkham escapees being found unconscious at a scene- they had all tried to rob the same bank, and Scarecrow's fear gas had reacted with Harley Quinn's Smilex, causing a powerful sedative affect.

"I don't think so. Most of the hostages were too busy keeping their heads down to see anything, and none of the thugs we've woken up can say anything helpful. Just a dark figure, too fast to be human. Out of the whole lot, I only found one who saw anything useful, and I only got one word out of her."

Sawyer glared at Renee. "Well? Don't keep me in suspense. What was it?"

Renee wet her lips. "Batwoman."

* * *

I punched the rapist in the stomach, and handed the woman her purse back. "You should walk someplace with better lighting."

* * *

"BATWOMAN?!"

"That's what she said. Batwoman."

Sawyer grimaced. "So, another bat-knock off. Damn it, we have to find this loony and stop her."

Renee bit her lip. "Are you sure? I mean, she did stop those men."

The commissioner stood up, and started pacing. "Shit, you've been here longer than I have. Ever since the big smash, the only bats around have been crooked. There were, what, four knockoffs who died, half a dozen kids in Halloween costumes the Joker killed, and seven people pretending for money. This is another one."

Renee's face twisted. "What if it isn't?"

Sawyer glared. "Then it's a vigilante. That IS illegal. Find this bat. Bring her in."

* * *

I stood up, and discarded the crowbar. I looked at the young couple who had had the stupidity to take a romantic walk through Gotham central park at one in the morning. "What?"

The boy was the first to regain the ability. "Dude... you beat them all up _with their own crowbar!_"

* * *

Captain Renee Montoya nodded at the man in charge of the warehouse. "Thanks. You sure this is the place?"

The other cop nodded. "Yup, this is where we keep the crap that we don't use, and can't throw away. You wanted something specific?"

Montoya picked a piece of paper out of her pocket. "Item number 1342-4452-11234."

The cop disappeared into the maze of odd items which filled the warehouse. There was all sorts of things there- riot ploughs, shields, a dozen suits of cold-weather environment suits, a fire truck modified to spray Agent Orange, an entire warehouse devoted to the idosyncrycies of Gotham. Finally, the cop reappeared, holding a large, oddly shaped piece of metal. "Here it is."

"Thanks," Renee said absently, staring at the object. "Hey, do me a favor- don't put me down on the log, ok? I don't want the boss finding out about this."

"Yeah, sure."

* * *

"Damn it, what's takin' them so long," griped one man. His head was clean shaven, as were his companions'. The way the three of them were waiting around… It just set off my instincts. I moved quietly into the shadows and listened.

"Probably stuck in traffic," another one said. "Calm down."

"Calm down? Calm down!? Shit, you know what'll happen to us if we get caught with that stuff."

The third laughed. "In Gotham? It's just a truck of heroin. That's nothing." Heroin? There were times I hated it when I was right. I settled in for a long wait, and listened.

It was almost twenty minutes before a truck arrived. The trio moved up to the driver, and there was an exchange of money. The driver got out to help the trio unload. That was my cue to move in. Silently, I jumped onto the truck, and moved to the rear doors.

"Right- let's take a look." One of the three skinheads announced. Opening the doors, he took the driver and one of his friends into the truck. The remaining man waited outside. I reached down, and quickly grabbed him by the collar. I lifted him up, and punched him unconscious before he could make a sound.

"Everything looks alright," one of them announced. "Jerry, let's get this stuff into th... Jerry? Where did you go?"

The men hopped out of the truck, and started looking around. When they were all looking in different directions, I grabbed the driver, and took care of him just like I had the first guy. There was a long moment before the other two noticed.

"Fk me! Where did the driver go?"

As the man who had just screamed turned around, I grabbed his friend, and added him to the pile. Now the man was all alone. He was getting whiter, and sweating nervously. "Who's there? Jeff? I told you, I won't have your money 'till Friday!"

Repositioning myself, I made no noise at all, and he only got more scared. He pulled out a handgun. "Come out and show your face, coward!"

"Ok." I growled, emerging from the shadows to his right. He screamed, and shot me.

"Ha! Got you, bat-freak!"

I said nothing, only walking closer to him. His eyes widened. He let off another pair of shots, doing no good at all. He screamed again. "Please! Leave me alone! I'll do anything! Don't kill me!"

Growling, I grabbed him by the collar. "Did you think you could stop me?" I brought my face right next to his. "Did you think I can die?" The eye-lenses of my suit glowed red. "Demons can't die."

He screamed in pure terror, and wet himself. I threw him into a wall, and he ran away. I turned to the truck.

* * *

Renee stared at the pitiful man. "So, let me get this straight. You _want_ to go to jail."

The man nodded. "For as long as possible. Please, I've earned it. I killed a guy last week, and tonight I helped bring in a heroin shipment into the city."

Renee sweatdropped. "And why, exactly, do you want to go there so badly?"

The man looked like he was about to cry. "The bat. The BAT!!"

Renee snorted. "She's just a human being, like you or me. Pull the other one."

He shook his head so fast Renee worried for his health. "No, she's not." His voice turned horse. "I shot her. Three times, right up close. All it did was piss her off. And those eyes... those evil eyes... Please! Maybe she can't get me in the slammer! I got nothn' to lose!"

* * *

I flew into the night, wings spread. Behind me, the truck burned. Its entire contents was quickly turning to ash.

Groaning, Renee Montoya pushed the piece of twisted metal into place. Once it locked into place, twisted the base upwards, pointing at the sky. She flipped a switch. On the dark clouds, a huge stylized picture of a bat appeared.

Perhaps a minute later, Renee stretched her back. By the time she was looking forwards again, she was staring at a dark figure. The only color on it was the blood red bat symbol on the chest, the blood red hair, and the dark red eyes. "You called."

Renee jumped. "Y, yes. I did."

The red eyes narrowed. "So. Talk."

"Right. Down to business." Renee took a deep breath. "There's something going on in Gotham. Something weird. In the last month we've had two new rogues appear. They've been meta's."

"Silversmith and Monk. Weak, inexperienced." The dark figure growled.

The captain smiled slightly. "Figures you'd know. A few days after they reached Belle Reve, they lost their powers. Not that they had much power to begin with, but it disappeared. Then the doctors ran blood tests. The results came back negative for the meta-gene."

"Technology-based superpowers?"

Renee shook her head. "That's what the report said, but I don't buy it. Those guys still had their powers in our cells, and on the way to Belle Reve. We had taken everything off them, and X-rayed them so many times they might be sterile." Renee cleared her throat. "I think something's happening. Intergang's been shipping trucks of drugs into Gotham, but none of it's making its way onto the streets."

"You think that they're mutating people." It wasn't a question.

Renee nodded. "I think so. The commissioner won't let me do anything- Intergang's been keeping their head down in Gotham for years now, and she doesn't want to poke a bee-hive with a stick. I've got no proof. You, on the other hand..."

"I'll look into it," the dark figure replied flatly. "What made you start the bat-signal?"

Renee's eyes darkened. "I worked here before the crash. I knew the original Batman, both Robins, and Batgirl. I've seen all the fakes. You- you aren't a fake. You might not be the Batman, but you aren't a fake." She grinned. "Not that the commissioner believes it. You know she ordered us to arrest you, Batwoman... Batwoman?"

But Renee was alone on the rooftop. She groaned. "Exactly like Batman."

* * *

A teenage girl looked out her bedroom window and sighed. She wasn't suffering the common teenage ailment of a broken heart, or anger at being grounded. She wasn't even sighing out of loneliness. No, this girl was sighing because her mother was gone. Again.

She didn't run away- truth be told, the girl would almost prefer that her mother would run away, and never come back. No, her mother was gone because she was in Arkham again. After all, her mother was one of the Joker's henchwomen. Ever since the original Joker had died, his sidekick, Harley Quinn, had taken up the mantle of 'Clown Prince of Crime'. Pushing her dead beloved's cause, she had dozens of clown-themed minions.

Not that she needed a role model or anything, the girl thought to herself. It would just be nice to have a mom.

There was a flash of movement past the window, and the girl stuck her head out to get a look. A dark figure was flying, almost impossible to see, down the dark alley. The girl was struck by how majestic the figure looked.

Barbara Gordon had no idea, but her choice of a route back to her apartment would change Stephanie Brown's life.

* * *

Authors Notes:

Renee Montoya, Stephanie Brown and Maggie Sawyer were characters in the comics, in various roles. Predictably, I've tweaked them a fair bit.

Harley Quinn and the jokers: In Batman: Beyond (Batman of the Future, in some countries) the Jokers were a gang of clown themed criminals, who did little more that beat up and mug people. As the original Joker was well and truly dead at the time (although in cannon Tim did it instead of Bruce), I'm providing an alternative explanation. Expect to see more of Harley Quinn, by the way.

In Batman comic history, it was very, very male dominated. Bruce, Dick and Alfred were the original heroes- their example of an 'Ideal homosexual lifestyle' was most famously put forward in the book 'Seduction of the Innocent', a book which criticized comics and forced significant changes to the content allowed in comic books. If you've ever wondered why all western cartoons are aimed at 12 year olds, and Japanese Anime is aimed at adults and contain blood, murder, difficult issues and sex, it's because the laws against mature content in comics were never written there. You can find Seduction of the Innocent online, and I recommend reading it. It's the funniest non-fiction book I've ever read.


End file.
